Returning to his own room he found the little old woman in grey awaiting him.
“You’ve been laughing again, father,” she said. “I see by the purpleness of your face. You’ll burst yourself at last if you go on so.”
“Oh! you little old hag—oh! Cormac—oh! Branwen, I hope you won’t be the death of me,” cried the chief, flinging his huge limbs on a couch and giving way to unrestrained laughter, till the tears ran down his cheeks. “If they did not all look so grave when speaking about you, it wouldn’t be so hard to bear. It’s the gravity that kills me. But come, Branwen,” he added, as he suddenly checked himself and took her hand, “what makes you look so anxious, my child?”
“Because I feel frightened, and ashamed, and miserable,” she answered, with no symptom of her sire’s hilarity. “I doubt if I should have followed Bladud—but if I had not he would have died—and I don’t like to think of all the deceptions I have been practising—though I couldn’t very well help it—could I? Then I fear that Bladud will forget Cormac when he learns to despise Branwen—”
“Despise Branwen!” shouted Gadarn, fiercely, as his hand involuntarily grasped the hilt of his sword. “If he did, I would cleave him from his skull to his waist—”
“Quiet you, my sweet father,” said Branwen, with a little smile, “you know that two can play at that game, and that you have a skull and a waist as well as Bladud—though your waist is a good deal thicker than his. I’m not so sure about the skull!”
“I accept your reproof, child, for boastfulness is hateful in a warrior. But get up, my love. What would happen if some one came into the room and found a little old hag sitting on my knee with her arm around my neck?”
“Ah, true, father. I did not think of that. I’m rather given to not thinking of some things. Perhaps that inquisitive servitor may be—no, he’s not there this time,” said Branwen, reclosing the door and sitting down on a stool beside the chief. “Now come, father, and learn your lesson.”
Gadarn folded his hands and looked at his child with an air of meek humility.
“Well?”